


Late Nights

by Adanska



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Genderfuck, Rule 63, Unexplained Backstory, always a girl!Banner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-18
Updated: 2012-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 21:42:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adanska/pseuds/Adanska
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s alone in the lab.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Nights

She's alone in the lab.

This isn't all that strange, seeing as her current lab resembles a basement meth lab than an actual one and her only other companion--well, her only other companion is out most of the day busing tables at the local diner. She's so often alone now that she forgets what other people _are_ sometimes.

(That's a lie. She _remembers_ people, she's just not very _good_ at them, especially not _since_ \--.)

There's a sandwich at her elbow, uneaten and long gone cold. She thinks Betty brought it down hours ago--it's certainly cold enough for that--but it's so frigid down here that that isn't a good measure for the passage of time. A better one would be the tea she had brought down at the same time (jasmine, long gone), but that too has too many variables to be trusted.

She could just look at a clock, but she left the last one in their prior basement flat along with everything else before the cops came (her lab's resemblance to a meth lab is not slight, and neighbours in these houses get a little jumpy around strange smells). There is no light to go by, no noticeable change in temperature, just data and experiments _and_ \--

She takes a sip of thrice-brewed coffee, absently chewing on the grinds as she forces her frozen hands to type faster, to keep up with the information scrolling across her brain. She's just so _close_...

"Dear?"

A hand lands on her shoulder, searing despite its soft touch; Betty. She didn't even hear her get in. Or leave.

Rubbing her eyes, she shoves her fingers and glasses up into her tangled hair. "I'm so _close_ ," she mutters; because it's true, because it's what's expected of her, because it's what she always says. "You'll be closer tomorrow," Betty soothes, tugging her gently from the stool and manoeuvring her up and out of the poorly lit basement she lives in with an ease born of far too much practice.

She's ruining Betty, and she just can't make herself _stop_. "I'd be nowhere without you," she offers as Betty lies her down on their second hand mattress, closes her eyes as Betty tucks her in. It's the truest thing she's said since--. It's the truest thing she's ever said, and for all it's truth it will only serve to drag them down further, drag Betty down further, but she can give her this much. "Allow them the dignity of their choice," her old professor used to say, and all she can do is try to allow Betty this terrible one, to try and trust that she knows what she is doing and is doing it anyway. Anything less is an insult to Betty, and she cannot abide that.

Betty's smiling at her, a wide beam that shows crooked teeth and a split in her lip almost healed since--, and all she can do or think is how warm it is in that smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Written originally as a bedtime story told via text messages to [Nonvieta](http://nonvieta.tumblr.com).


End file.
